


the back of love

by dollylux



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blood Kink, Drugged Sex, Dry Sex, High School, Homophobia, M/M, Slurs, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8552518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: A day in the life of Jared and Daniel.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homo_pink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homo_pink/gifts).



> for E. a small gift at the very end of a nightmare week. <3

Erica and Daniel form an uneasy alliance.

Uneasy because they’re both territorial in their own ways, protective of Jared. Possessive, more truthfully.

There are lots of long glances in the hallways, lots of tight, pursed lips from Erica and chewed-on, chapped frowns from Daniel. Jared stands between them, gripping Daniel’s hand and going slack as a little boy while Erica reaches up to groom him: tuck a stray hair behind his ear, pluck a dead eyelash from his cheek, fix the collar of his flannel shirt. Little things. Little ways to say _you were mine first_.

Daniel always stays silent beside him and watches her, his eyes milky with starvation and unblinking, taking it all in. His hand goes limp in Jared’s grip, would fall away if Jared loosened up at all. 

It hurts, to love two people this much. This painful transition from being young to being in love.

 

 

Jared shuffles, even when he finally tips over six feet tall. He shuffles and sticks close to the wall so he can lean a little, his secondhand leather jacket catching on the painted concrete walls of their learning prison.

He’s got his cousin’s old Discman in his bag and The Cure’s _Disintegration_ playing, a CD borrowed from Daniel who stole it from Waterloo a couple of weeks ago.

“Pictures of You” dictates his pace, making it a little dreamier than Mother Love Bone does. He’s so lost in Robert Smith’s voice, in the thought that he really should have more pictures of Daniel, should go sneak a couple of disposable cameras from the drugstore for this weekend, that he’s actually startled when somebody rushes past him, slamming into him full-force as they do.

It’s a girl, her messy bun flopping as she dashes past, so intent on whatever she’s running toward that she doesn’t even glance back at Jared.

He realizes then that there’s a rush forward of most everybody in the hall, all of them rounding the corner and disappearing. He tugs his headphones off slowly, a low burn of worry pulling him up out of his body, making all of his movements slower, filling him with an instinctive dread:

 _This is gonna hurt._  

The first thing he sees when he turns the corner is a boot connecting with Daniel’s ribs, hitting clean and with the steel-toe. Daniel moves but just barely, his face bloody and pale, quiet. A crowd is gathered, most of them shouting a mess of words, some worry, some encouragement, but one word stands out to Jared, each one a shock to his system:

_Fag. Fag. Fag. Fag. Fag._

A wave of rage hits him faster than anything ever has before, and he’s swept up in it, in the thick red of it, time slowing down to let it seep into every pore. His body tenses, ready to take off at a dead-run, to rip bodies apart and get to Neil Stephens and bash his head into the corner of the lockers until his skull splits, but someone beats him to it.

She’s small, unbelievably small, but she jumps on him like Jared would, wrapping around him from behind with murder in her large, dark eyes.

Erica’s nails are long and as red as the blood on Daniel’s face, and one set of claws sinks into Neil’s eyes while the other one digs into his throat. Both press in and _rip_ , digging in so hard that Jared actually sees when a few of them break as they sink into skin, into muscle, one of them digging right into the corner of Neil’s eyeball, into delicate, precious membrane.

Neil’s scream is unholy, echoing in the suddenly silent hallway, and he stumbles back with Erica still clinging to his back, with the white line of her teeth bared like an animal, her eyes black with singular focus, and she is absolutely quiet in her attack.

Jared is across the hall and in between Neil and Daniel, his heart pounding loud and bulging in his throat as he stares down at his broken boy in stunned horror.

He turns to look at Neil who is crying now, bleeding from different gashes on his face and neck. Erica drops back down to her Doc mary janes, breathing hard and staring at Jared, waiting for him to speak, to do something, maybe.

“You _fucking bitch_!” Neil screams at Erica, shaking hands covering his face where bloody tears are spilling, his right eyeball bulged out with the ruin she inflicted. “I’ll have you thrown in jail, you _cunt_! You and your fucking faggot boyfriend!”

Jared steps in close, wrapping the front of Neil’s polo shirt in his left fist and walking him back until he’s pressed up against a row of lockers. He can feel the eyes behind him, can sense the anticipation, but he doesn’t care. About any of it.

“He’s _my_ faggot boyfriend,” Jared corrects in a low, gritted drag, twisting Neil’s shirt until it’s tight around his throat, choking him. “And you won’t be able to do any goddamn thing if you’re dead.”

He draws back with his right fist and lands a punch square in Neil’s face, hearing the crack of the back of his skull against the metal lockers a single second after the sickening crunch of his nose breaking under the thick row of his knuckles.

He lets him go then, watching him fall in a slump to the dirty tile. The urge to kick him, to shatter his skull, his ribs, every bone in his body so strong that he’s shaking with it.

“Jay.”

He turns then at Erica’s voice, at the tone in it. She’s got Daniel up off the floor, trying to support the long wisp of him by herself. Jared joins them and takes Daniel’s weight all by himself, lifting him up off the floor in a bridal hold that has Daniel’s unconscious head lolling back heavy and beautiful over his arm

“Let’s go,” Erica says, soft and urgent near his shoulder. “Now.”

“Pictures of You” just now ends in the headphones around his neck, the last note echoing like a sigh.

 

 

They clean up back at Jared’s house, Jared ignoring his probably broken knuckles to clean off Daniel’s face, to wrap a bag of frozen pea in a towel and press it to the worst of the bruising there. Jared had kissed two Vicodin into his mouth and Daniel is sleeping now, propped up on pillows and wrapped in three blankets and Jared’s flannel.

Erica is at the foot of the bed glaring at her ruined manicure, taking a file to the nails that aren’t bloody, broken stubs. 

“Let that motherfucker say something,” she says. “I’ll tear his balls off through his ass.” 

Jared smiles tiredly from his station at Daniel’s side, one hand in his dirty, pale hair, stroking over the tangles instead of trying to undo them like he used to.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

Erica glances up at him, pausing in her nail rescue mission and giving him a smile he doesn’t deserve, a sweetness that he had to earn through years of secrets and thousands of memories.

“You’re welcome,” she replies.

A phone rings from somewhere in her bag, and she growls quietly to herself in annoyance before leaning down to snag it.

Daniel stirs under Jared’s arm, just a slow, drugged intake of breath and the wet soothe of a tongue over a dry mouth that hasn’t been kissed in nearly an hour. Jared remedies that while he’s still barely awake, while his mouth is slack and hot, so easy to take. 

“So ‘m your boyfriend, huh?” Daniel breathes against his lips, making Jared smile before he can catch it. He digs his forehead against Daniel’s and grunts, trying to sound all grumpy in that way that makes Daniel laugh, makes him act almost silly in that shy, unsure, heartbreaking way of his. 

“At the very least,” Jared tells him, thumb stroking along his hairline, down his temple. Daniel relaxes back against the pillows and Jared’s arm again, slipping under the medicated haze Jared had put him in, but his face is smooth under the swollen, broken skin, under the bruises, his busted mouth sweetened on a smile. 

“Gotta go,” Erica says. 

She stands up and shoulders her bag, watching Daniel and Jared for a beat before leaning down and kissing Jared on the mouth.

“Call me later.” She leans down and smoothes Daniel’s hair back, resting her hand on top of Jared’s on his head and pressing a kiss to Daniel’s cool, pale forehead. She stays there, tucked against him, and Jared rests his forehead against her temple, breathing them both in at once, taking the scent into himself and locking it up tight. 

She leaves in a rustle of lace and metal, and Jared curls in next to Daniel, letting his eyes close again as the dark soaks up the light outside, leaving them with nothing but the moon and each other. 

“Do me,” Daniel whispers against his mouth, shivery and sour. 

It’s dark in Jared’s stuffy room, the air bloated with the metallic scent of Daniel’s drying blood. He blinks unseeing as he tries to wake up, not sure what’s happening, where he is, but he gasps when he feels the dry, giving pressure of Daniel’s asshole against the runny tip of his cock. 

 _Songs to Learn and Sing_ finds them from across the room, from the top of Jared’s dresser, speakers all but hidden behind stacks and stacks of CDs.

(The killing moon, will come too soon.)

“Shit,” he whispers, shifting on the bed and reaching for Daniel, finding the sharp juts of his hipbones and gripping them bruise-hard. He flips them on the bed, throwing Daniel down with a bounce, not sure when his pants came down, when he got hard, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but this. But him.

Pushing into him is colors, is dark, rolling purples over blue and tastes like melted ice cream, like the milk his mama fed him to keep him alive all those years ago, like nourishment. Vital.

Daniel’s body is still broken, ribs cracked, bruises making him soft and tender all over, but it’s nothing they haven’t done, nothing they don’t do already.

The Vicodin must still be coursing through Daniel’s system because he’s so relaxed inside, bottomless like he only is when he’s drugged, when he’s barely there. Jared runs his hands down his body, down the snapped lines of his ribs, thumb rubbing in the dip of his belly button and pressing in, trying to feel himself moving around in there, inside him.

Daniel wraps a heavy arm around him, drawing him down, and that’s when Jared starts to move.

He mouths at his bruises, laps at broken skin, hungry for blood. The heel of his hand is pressing low on Daniel’s belly, pushing in, feeling the bulge of his cock thrusting in and up, bulging out the concave of his starved stomach. It has to hurt all over, has to be excruciating to be fucked hard and dry after getting the shit beat out of you, but Daniel is gasping, soft and secret, is petting the curled-up strands of Jared’s long hair at the back of his neck and blinking up at him with wet eyes that glint in the dark.

“Fuck me,” he sighs, thin thighs shuddering against Jared’s hips, his whole body trembling even as he melts back into Jared’s bed. “God. Fuck me.”

Jared groans, huffing hot into his mouth as he gathers Daniel’s head up in one big hand, cradling it there so he can kiss him, breaking open the skin there fresh, tasting a hot trickle of blood over his tongue. The bed thumps against the wall, soft thuds in the quiet night, but Jared couldn’t fuck him more tender, with more sweetness than he is.

He comes hard enough to rattle the entire bedframe, to shake his bones apart under his skin, deep enough to impregnate. His muscles jump with tension, pulled so tight as he digs his forehead against Daniel’s, squeezes his eyes closed, and gives him absolutely everything.

“I love you,” Daniel whispers, wetting out his own little death between their bellies, and there’s no difference in how soft-boned he was before and when he passes out now, slipping back under like a spell.

Jared stares down at him in the dark, his cock cradled in a tight grip of his own come inside of the sleeping boy beneath him, the one who had just told Jared he loved him for the first time.

He hadn’t even given Jared time to say it back.


End file.
